The poem as prey, as blood luscious, elusive. The poem as the locked room.
37 posts
Tw: Self Harm
Tw: self harm
Broken mosaic
Broken like a mosaic, this grief is beautiful.
Cold as a grave, this silence is peaceful.
A pain drenched tartarus was what made childhood.
A longing filled asphodel is what makes life cruel.
Sinister evil spirits, they whisper in the dark.
Cold harsh voice, it will shatter up your heart.
The silence kept saying with such delicacy.
But mind kept begging for sincere secrecy.
So close your little eyes, home is full of ghosts.
Hide your own self, it is terrifying to be known.
Shred your skin, once again you'll be filled with relief.
One last cut; an eternity of sleep.
-
ash-5 liked this · 3 years ago
-
ravrnclws liked this · 3 years ago
-
min-goddamn-strawberry liked this · 3 years ago
-
verloreneseele2 liked this · 3 years ago
-
ardibeltzak reblogged this · 3 years ago
-
ardibeltzak liked this · 3 years ago
-
shamelessdestinydinosaur liked this · 3 years ago
-
acroxx reblogged this · 3 years ago
-
acroxx liked this · 3 years ago
-
ibreathered liked this · 3 years ago
-
inexpressiblybeautiful liked this · 3 years ago
-
lonelyravensworld liked this · 3 years ago
-
pubbiezzz liked this · 3 years ago
-
nolongerangels liked this · 3 years ago
-
rainsrecords liked this · 3 years ago
-
porcelainstem liked this · 3 years ago
-
child-of-addiction liked this · 3 years ago
-
voidic3ntity liked this · 3 years ago
-
stardustandmoonlight reblogged this · 3 years ago
-
unlikelyanonymous liked this · 3 years ago
More Posts from Unlikelyanonymous
There is love in my mother's disapproval.
It is there in the way she looks at me,
The way she loathes my existence.
It's not visible but it's there.
There is love in my father's resentment.
It is there in the way he talks to me,
The way he is ashamed of me.
It's not apparent but it's there.
There is love in my family.
It is there in broken dreams.
It is there in domestic scars.
So much love that you almost mistake it for hate.


I don't think I could ever stop writing completely.
permillion44
Tw: self harm, ed
Alternate universe
In an alternate universe,
I am 14 and alone in my room,
And my hands haven't harmed myself yet.
In an alternate universe,
My mom isn't emotionally dead,
And my dad isn't the monster yet.
In an alternate universe,
I still have her by my side,
I haven't screwed everything yet.
In an alternate universe,
I don't flinch when I look in the mirror,
There are no scars on my thighs yet.
In an alternate universe,
I still eat like a normal person,
I haven't ruined myself yet.


Spring is awaking from its slumber 🤍💐🌾
Pic via pinterest

Is it normal to grieve yourself?
And still yearn the grief?
To know you'll be eternally hurting,
Why is it such a relief?